Nestled Closer To The Dark Poem by Mark. A Heathcote

I'm going to my winding sheet.
But not before I close my eyes.
Only because I need to rest.
And I can't stand lies.

You know it's dark. When—
Even the giraffes can't see the stars.
And I've stretched my neck so far.
I can't close my tired eyes.

Even when my heart
Wants only to reside in its sin
Nestled closer to the dark
So, I say sometimes let it all begin.

But like I say, I can't, so
What can I do but linger on?
Till I'm crushed by something,
More concrete than a loitering spark.